Dead like a priest hung from a tree Ropes drawn about his armpits Crows have picked his eyes away Flesh is scarred and ripped to shreds The crucifix
salute massmurderers! The true artists of human suffering Masters above the dying herd To wear the skin of another To carry the skull of one's enemy
place of blood Decay sets in, bones begin to crack Thrown six feet down left to rot Brains oozing black down the side of your broken neck Skull full
his appearance Clad with remains of their friends Bludgeoning them with power As they strain to make a defense The bringer of death descends Skull
forgot the reason why we got into this and why we're bickering (what's the reasoning?) we're different but the same you call it a competition I call
All I ever wanted to do is just play some music and take my body to a show were I could abuse it And I know that's reckless and hedonistic, but let's
I don't think that Ian Would approve of what I'm seeing The substance you abuse I call another human being You're not convincing me To come to your
When bands are talking shit about the other bands in town And just to get ahead they drag each other down When venues only cater to promoters with a
An epitaph is propaganda for a memory For people who aren't really worth remembering Like people with wealth that save it for themselves A casket is
And I saw you staring at the jukebox As you held his hand I heard A song we used to play in bed A song I used to play for you in bed A disillusioned
Nobody's hungry, everyone is well to do and we lack motivation if the truth can set you free then how can we keep dying for you? in a distant land of
My friends call me up to get me to go out on Friday night But I just felt dead inside, like I had to hide From small talk and boozed-up disapproving
At conception you say the zygote and the soul are joined in holy union and that's all we need to know millions with cancer, Parkinson's and hear disease
The golden age is never coming back Getting out was not part of the plan You are just a victim of an older time Falling behind in exponential times
Well I don't know what happens when we die, but I just can't see no angels in the sky I might lay there for a while, I hope I go with a smile, but I
So you come from the city you got big city money to spend, I don't want your big city money in my town my friend, you don't appreciate it you want to
When I get home I'm going to pick up that old guitar bass of mine and take it for a walking down a bass line I'll take my girl and show her how to make